


Sweat

by TheMouthKing



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal, Bad Decisions, First Time, Grinding, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Pining, Stupid Teenagers, college rhink, do not do this at home, hot southern summer nights, motel lotion isn't good lube, rhett wants it so fucking bad, sleep to awake, this sure got sweaty fast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:31:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMouthKing/pseuds/TheMouthKing
Summary: On a hot southern night in a motel over spring break, things get sweaty fast.





	Sweat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annabelle_leigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabelle_leigh/gifts).



> Legit haven't touched this in actually 7 weeks, and boom it's done. Blame this humid AF night. And also LinksLipsSinkShips' encouragement that it didn't suck.

It’s well past midnight and it’s still like 75 degrees.

Rhett thought it’d be better here at the motel. He’d banked on AC they could crank up. Banked on the fact that Link would wanna stay away from the blast of cold air, the way he wants to stay away from being in the direct line of the fan in their dorm room. Something about the air on him bothers him. Unfortunately, the AC doesn’t do much to cool the motel room. Somewhere around 10:30, Rhett gave up with it and opened the windows in a desperate bid to get some cool air in. 

It’s not working, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering Link anymore. He’s fast asleep on the right side of the bed, spread out like a goddamn starfish. How he manages to sleep in just about any situation is beyond him, but there Link is, happily taking up two thirds of the bed and out like a light. 

Rhett just can’t get there. He’s still way too warm, but he’s trying. He’s lying still, the way he does when he and Link have to share a bed. 

This wasn’t preferable, really, but they’d figured they’d be able to do the full week of break if they got the cheapest room the motel offered. Which meant sharing a bed. Between this and planning to stock up on breakfast food that’s easy to eat in a motel room, they figured they cut enough corners to put their money where it counted: in having fun. 

Rhett glances over at the clock what feels like hours later, wondering if he’s managed to get any sleep at all, only to realize it’s barely quarter to one. 

They’d gone to bed in just their boxers. Neither of them could handle even a top sheet. Even with nothing over him, Rhett’s covered in sweat. He glances over at Link, who’s in the middle of shifting positions in his sleep. Link’s sweaty too. His hair is stuck to the sides of his head and there’s a slight sheen on his face. Before he settles again, he flips his pillow over to the cool side. That’s a good idea. Rhett follows suit, flips his pillow over, but stays stretched out flat on his back. 

It’s gonna be a real long night. 

Rhett must have fallen asleep because he wakes up to find that Link’s moved again, and this time he’s settled back down pressed right up against him. This is always the problem. Link is just too _active_ in his sleep and half the time Rhett can’t sleep because of it. Any time he shares a bed with Link he wakes up grouchy as hell because he misses out on at least half the night’s sleep. To make it worse, it’s still hot and Link’s not helping matters by pressing his sticky body up against Rhett’s.

But Rhett’s having a different problem right now, though. Or Link is, and he’s inflicting it on Rhett, making it his problem. And that problem is that… _well_. Something’s pressed against his hip. 

At first he wonders if maybe he’s wrong. Maybe it’s not what he thinks it is. Maybe that’s just… just how Link feels. But he knows that’s stupid. They’ve shared a bed enough that he knows how Link normally feels pressed up against him (which is problematic in its own right, and is certainly one of the reasons that Rhett sleeps so tightly self-contained when they’ve gotta share). 

No, Link’s hard against him. But that’s normal. It happens. Right? He’s probably just having a dream, something sexy… maybe about one of the girls they’d seen out on the beach yesterday. If Rhett just doesn’t pay him any mind maybe it’ll go away. Or maybe _he’ll_ go away. After all, how long does he stay in any one position? Not real long, if tonight has been any indication. 

He’ll just wait it out. 

He’s so, so aware of it, though. He’s afraid to even look in Link’s direction, like he’s afraid he’ll wake up and realize what’s going on. Wonder why Rhett didn’t say something, stop this sooner. 

Rhett’s prickling with heat, the kind of feeling that starts in his skin and goes bone deep. It feels like the room’s gotten hotter but it’s just the proximity, it’s just Link’s overheated, sweaty body pressed up against his side.

 _’Just go away. Just turn over and go away, oh my **god.** ’_ But silently willing him away isn't helping, isn't doing a damn thing. 

Maybe Rhett should move. It's not like there's anywhere to go, he's damn near on the edge of the bed as it is, but he could shift to his side, face away. Would that help? He doesn't know, but it's one of the few escapes he can think of. 

He _could_ just go sleep in the armchair, but that's not gonna be comfortable and he's too stubborn to just let Link win the bed because he moves too much. Because he's hard. 

But Link’s not going anywhere. Rhett can feel his arms curled up, pressing into his bicep, and that's annoying as hell. He's so dang sweaty. Rhett can feel Link’s breath on his shoulder, hot over his damp skin. He can't stand this. 

He's telling himself he can't stand it cause it's uncomfortable. Cause it's sticky and hot and Link’s a furnace and Rhett can't sleep hot as it is, and that he doesn’t wanna be feeling Link’s dick stabbing him in the hip. And maybe there's parts of all that that’s true, but this isn't the first time he's felt Link hard and pressed up on him. 

And it's not the first time it's made his mind wander. 

As much as he's planning ways to get away from Link, he's also biding his time. Wondering how long he can get away with lying here just like this so he can imagine _what if_ with Link leaning into him, adding an anchor of reality to the fantasy. 

In his mind Link’s not sleeping, he’s awake and nosing into his shoulder. He’s touching him, urging him to move, maybe to his side so they can grind or maybe just closer and Link moves closer too, onto him. Close enough that there's nothing between their bodies but sweat. 

Rhett's so overheated thinking that he's starting to consider a shower. He could just get up and go on in, turn on the tap cold and stand there and let this heat bleed out of him. But that means leaving the bed. It means pulling himself away from the only hint of reality his fantasies ever find. 

The longer he stays the more questionable it is that he's stayed. If Rhett was awake and aware of what was going on, then why didn't he shove Link off as soon as it started? He knows Link would ask, if he wakes up suddenly. With a _what the crap?_ and a joke, he’d laugh it off. 

Sometimes Rhett feels like he can't handle one more joke that brushes this off. 

He's about to move -- really, he is -- when Link shifts in his sleep. Throws a heavy arm over the top of him, like he's a human pillow. Cuddles his face down aggressively into Rhett’s shoulder. And that's enough. 

It’s too much. Rhett feels this thrill pooling up in his belly and suddenly it's _really_ obvious Link’s not the only one inconveniently hard. At least, mercifully, he’s not pressing up into Link. But if Link opens his eyes, it’s gonna be pretty easy to see. 

They're done here. He's gotta go. This can't happen. He shifts, turning over on his side, careful not to fall right off the bed. His plan is to get up, because he needs air. Maybe he'll step out or take that shower, he doesn't know, doesn't care. He just needs to get away. 

He makes it to his side, but he doesn't get away because before he manages to get enough space to get his legs beneath him and stand, the arm thrown over him tightens up a little like a reflex. Like he’s afraid of losing the embrace, trying to get him to stay, cuddling closer. Clings to Rhett like he’s a human stuffed animal that Link needs to hug to his chest. 

That stops him in his tracks. Just all of a sudden, Link’s pressed flush against his back like they're spoons. 

And Rhett can _feel_ him. It's absolutely unmistakable, the solid press of a cock against the back of his shorts. He hadn't known if he'd like that, hadn't known just how it'd feel to be pressed up against all close like this. It makes him wonder if all the rest he's imagined would feel this good, too. If _more_ would feel better. 

His heart is beating loud and hard in his chest. Maybe that'll be what wakes Link up, the hammering of his heartbeat. It's impossible that he can't hear it, that it isn't pounding through his skin where they're pressed together, reverberating through Link’s bones like they share a skeleton. 

He lays dead silent and still as long as he can. He could still go. Pry Link’s arm off him and make a break for it, run out of the room for some fresh air. Throw on sneakers and go for a jog. He _could_. But selfishly, he doesn't want this to end and it keeps him rooted to the spot. 

Keeps him still and trapped in this shared bed. 

When his breathing starts to calm, he starts to notice things. Link's breath is tickling over the back of his neck where his nose is buried, and every now and then he can feel it whisper through the buzzed-short hair at his nape. Tingles are chasing themselves down Rhett’s spine. Can he die from this? Because it feels like he could. 

Link's moving. Rhett wonders if he's crazy. He's not moving, is he? But it feels like he is. Slow and subtle, he can feel friction. Maybe he's imagining it. Maybe he's the one doing it, shifting back against his best friend while his mind steadfastly blames Link for it. It doesn't change the fact that he can feel the most subtle of motions rocking their bodies together. Like they're rutting and trying not to be seen, trying to pass it by the closest of scrutinies. 

Rhett wants _more_ , and he’s gonna get way more than he’d bargained for. 

Link moans against the back of his neck and moves, this slow, full bodied rock like he’s trying to get closer, like he’s trying to pull Rhett back into him though he’s still blanketed in sleep. Rhett’s eyes are open wide and round and, again, he’s thinking of escape. He really should. This is the last chance he’s got before it gets too awkward if Link wakes up. He opens his mouth and he’s trying to figure out how, shifts a little bit, finally gathering up all his willpower to get up, but—

“Mmm, like that…” 

Rhett feels a jolt of fear and he stills, frozen in place. 

Is Link awake? For a long, terrible moment, he’s afraid that he is. His mind is blank and after a few wild beats of his heart he wonders why that would be so bad. Wouldn’t that be good? If he was awake and still wrapped around him, awake and talking sweet against the nape of his neck? Yeah. Yeah, it would be. He’s afraid he’s still _asleep_. Afraid he’s sleep-talking, afraid this strange thing that’s happening between them will still startle Link awake and his friend’ll find himself exactly where he doesn’t want to be. He’s afraid there’s a let-down coming, one he won’t survive. 

But it’d be so easy to just lean into it. To just let it happen, whatever it is that’s happening. After all, it feels good, and couldn’t he just pretend to be asleep if Link wakes up? That’s not really an option, not a plausible one anyway, but more and more he’s leading himself to believe that it is. That this is something he can have here, between asleep and awake, their bodies pantomiming what Rhett can’t stop himself from imagining any time he gets the chance to. 

He doesn’t _know_ he’d like more because he’s never done this before. But then again, he supposes, he didn’t need to have messed around with girls before to know for sure he’d like to. He’d just… sorta known. He’d imagined it enough, the thoughts and images rippling through him and leaving him hot and wanting. He didn’t need to experience it to know it’s what he wanted, he just _wanted._ That’s what this feels like. 

“So good…” Link mumbles against his neck, lips dragging across his damp skin and Rhett shudders so suddenly and so obviously it’s a wonder he doesn’t wake Link then and there. 

His exhale is loud in the dark room, loud even with the backdrop of the soft sounds Link’s making at his back, the low hum of the dying AC unit struggling along, and the soft chirping of crickets outside. It's not enough to drown out their breathing, Rhett’s fast and irregular, Link’s deep and hot on his skin. 

Not enough to blot out that telltale sound of skin on skin as that motion between their bodies shifts from _is he?_ to _oh fuck, he is_. The grind Rhett had second-guessed is real, as real as any of the rest of this. As real as the hard press of Link’s thick, apparently mostly hard cock teasing the slow ride up of Rhett’s boxers. Rhett can't resist moving back against Link. Letting himself move the way he wants to, inviting more, fitting himself against Link like they were made to fold together. 

He's gonna ruin this. He's gonna say something. Moan too loud. Move too much. Shake out of his skin. _Sob_. 

He's gonna give himself away and Link’s gonna be mad that he didn't stop him sooner and he's going to wonder _what the fuck?_ And their friendship won't be the same. 

“Mm, Rhett,” Link mumbles against his hair. 

Rhett's blood goes cold. Link's awake. He's got to be. 

He goes still and silent and just… panics. But slowly it becomes clear he was wrong. Link's still talking in his sleep, still grinding, arm still thrown over him, heavy. 

Slowly his brain puts the pieces together. If Link’s still asleep then why’d he say his name? Is he dreaming about him? Dreaming about _this?_ And if he's not -- if he's awake -- then he's fully aware of what's going on and he's still talking, still touching, still grinding the hard point of his cock against Rhett's ass with this maddening slowness. 

Either way, it's enough. Enough that he's bold enough to try and wake him, because this… this can't keep happening like this. 

“Link… hey, Link…” he's never heard his voice sound so thick and panicked. He's desperately trying not to rub back on Link just now. He's trying to stop and be still while Link might be asleep, might not be capable of stopping it himself if he wanted it to stop. 

Rhett doesn't want it to, but he wants Link aware of it fully. Just minutes ago he’d been thinking about how he’d take anything he could get, he’d take him in sips and half-measures but the truth of the matter is, now that he’s here and facing it, is that he wants to devour him whole, wants him all the way, awake, present. 

“Yeah…” his voice is sleepy, but... is he sleeping? 

Rhett's not sure if he'd woken him or if he had to try again. He doesn't have long to wonder because Link's hand sweeps over his chest from behind in a _very_ awake way, slow and gentle, delicate. His thumb drags over a hard nipple, the soft pad catching friction on all that sweat-damp skin. The next breath is a heavy sigh that warms his skin between his shoulders, and Link lays a kiss at the back of his neck. 

_He's awake._

“OhGodLink,” it comes out in a rush, hushed, and Link pulls Rhett back against him. Pulls himself in close. 

Link had woken up from a dream of fucking Rhett to find his body trying to have the same in reality. To find Rhett willingly allowing it, leaning back into it for more. 

Link leans into that heady magic that comes with the cloak of darkness. The easy slip. Anything can happen in the dark, between two people who'd already found each other. Their bodies negotiating a space they couldn't manage to find in waking moments. 

The moment stretches on. It changes. Slowly Rhett wraps his head around this, around the fact that Link’s awake and wants this. He might have been snuggled up in his sleep, moving, but he's not doing _this_ in his sleep. 

...or is he? Uncertainty begins to seep in and he needs to make absolutely sure. 

“Link,” he tries again, voice breaking beneath the weight of this, unable to form a sentence. 

“Yeah,” this time the reply is immediate. They're still moving together, this slow build of friction. It's not subtle and it's not just Link fitting himself against Rhett, but Rhett's moving back against him for more. Desperate for friction, for the solid press of Link against his ass that he can almost imagine inside of him. 

“...is this okay?” It comes out in a rush. Rhett’s cheeks are burning and he gasps, desperate for air as something Link does changes everything. What… what just happened? It takes him several long seconds to piece it together. 

All this movement has caused Link to slip out of the front of his boxers. That's what it's gotta be because suddenly he can _feel_ the heat so much more clearly, damp and direct against him, through the thin fabric of his own shorts. He’s still gasping for air, struggling to control his breath, to hold on to the last shred of himself because he's got to be sure this is okay. It's gotta be okay. 

“…yeah… is it okay with you?” Link asks, and it’s at that moment that Rhett can tell that Link’s just as terrified as he is. Afraid of what it means between them, maybe, what’s going to change if they don’t stop this. But maybe he’s afraid of what it means, period. Does this mean they’re gay? Right now, Rhett doesn’t care and it’s fair to say that Link doesn’t either. If he does, he’s not letting on as he presses a kiss to Rhett’s shoulder, hand dragging down Rhett’s chest to his belly, hovering just above the waistband of his boxer shorts. The way his shaky fingers brush the elastic gives away just how bad he wants to touch him, but he’s waiting. He needs the all clear from Rhett. Like somehow, waking up humping was one thing but once hands got involved there was a whole new level of intent that called for real permission. 

Rhett doesn't answer -- he can't -- but he grabs Link’s hand from where it’s laying low against his belly and pushes it down where he wants it, where he needs it, fishing their hands together down into his sweat-damp boxers, guiding it to his cock. They moan together, Link’s muffled against Rhett’s skin and Rhett’s against the mattress as he turns his face away. 

He’s red faced and breathless when he finally manages a weak, “Uh huh…”

It's awkward like this. Awkward touching another guys cock, but Link seems to be managing well enough. Long fingers stroke over him, groping awkwardly but the awkwardness doesn't matter because _it's happening._ Link’s touching him. 

Rhett wants more. He feels torn, pulled between the hand on him and the hard press of Link’s cock at his backside, and the way their bodies keep moving together. He wants more of both, wants everything all at the same time. 

“I'm gonna fall off,” he stammers, fists bunched in the covers as he tries to catch himself, because somewhere in all of this, Rhett’s ended up so close enough to the edge of the bed that there’s a risk of it.

“Not gonna let you fall,” Link breathes against his neck, and his hand moves away — Rhett makes this soft, almost mewling sound of loss — and up around his middle again and he hauls him bodily back a few inches towards the center of the bed. 

He feels this lurch of nerves. It's hard to describe, after, if he tries to tell Link how it all felt, but it's from a combination of things. It's that move, being hauled bodily like he hardly weighed a thing. It's Link’s immediate response to his fear of falling. It's how the whole move brings his body so fully flush against Link’s, pressed back against him from ass to shoulders that it feels like the air went out of him. It’s imagining him doing more than just tugging him back a few inches, it’s the way his brain fills the blanks in, imagines Link capable of manhandling him, of pushing him down against the mattress and holding him there.

With his breath goes his rational thought, the part of him that catches himself from saying what he means, what he wants. What he needs. 

“...I wanna feel you,” he dares, face hot. He feels dizzy from the admission, from voicing even that much. If he’d been standing when he said that, when he felt this, he’d have had to sit or sink to his knees to keep from falling from the suddenness of it. 

Link's hand starts to move back down, the damp drag of friction slowing him as he slips beneath the bunched up fabric of his boxers. All the moving between them, the way Link's been rutting up against him already hasn't been helped remotely by being pulled back across the bed. Rhett feels Link’s cock there, pressed between his legs like he’s trying to fuck between his thighs, feels the overwhelming heat of him pressed up against his balls through his boxers and it's all he can do to breathe. Rhett’s afraid he might hyperventilate from trying so hard to to hold onto control. 

He reaches to push his boxers down, his big hand brushing Link’s arm on the way. One handed it's awkward, but Link apparently gets the message. Link helps. Rather, he takes over, grabs hold of the waist of Rhett's boxers and yanks them down as much as he can can one handed. Rhett moves immediately, squirming to lift himself up off the bed until Link’s managed to peel them down till they’re clinging damp around his thighs. In all of it, he's so aware of how close they are throughout, how Link’s achingly hard cock is moved around in the tangle of their bodies and hands, the boxers being pulled out of the mix. He can feel it when Link’s cock springs away from the pull of his boxers and bumps up against his ass again with nothing in the way. 

Rhett doesn't care that his legs are tangled up in his boxers, that Link’s still in his own. He can feel him pressing up against his ass without a barrier between them, hot and slick where the head drags against him, and it's wearing away his rational thought. 

He hears Link make this harsh sound, feels it in his breath warming his ear. It rips through him like nothing he'd ever imagined, so fucking hot. Link’s fingers are hard on his hips, like his hands are made of steel, and Rhett's afraid and hopeful all at once that he's gonna end up bruised. Gonna end up with the echo of this moment painting his skin dark for days.

God, it feels like _almost_. Like he could trick himself into believing they're fucking when they're moving like this. He can practically feel how it would feel, his mind filling in the blanks. 

“I want it in me,” he stammers, his voice breathless, hollow. He’s shocked at his own boldness. His face is red and he's glad he's facing away, glad Link can't see how out of control he feels. 

“Rhett…” there's a half question there, like he's asking if Rhett’s sure. The truth is the both of them are so far past the point where they're clear enough to negotiate the details of this it's absurd. But for all the uncertainty in his tone, he does shift how they're moving together so the length of his cock slips between Rhett's sweat-slick thighs. Almost what he wants, but not quite. Like he's trying to figure out how they'd fit together. 

Rhett’s so overheated and the rush of feeling that takes him over raises goosebumps on his skin. It’s not what he was angling for and they both know it, but for a staggering second it feels almost like enough. It feels like being fucked if he just clenches his thighs tight together, if he goes tense and lets Link take what he’s looking for. 

He moves away from Link, though Link doesn't let him go easy, keeps that vice grip hold on his hips till he realizes Rhett isn't trying to get away. He's leaning off the edge of the bed as far as he can without getting up, still touching Link with the half of his body that anchors him down. 

He comes back with a little motel bottle of lotion. It's not ideal and it's not the best idea he's ever had, but fuck if it doesn't feel like it is. He presses the little bottle into Links hand and he's so fucking grateful that Link seems to catch his meaning without him having to say it again. Takes the fact of him fetching it as certainty. 

It's dark but Link can still see him, his best friend’s face cast in shadow from the neon lights in the parking lot outside, slotting through the mini blinds. Rhett looks a little nervous, in spite of himself. He tries to settle back down, to get back in the position they had been, faced away so he didn't have to deal with the nerves. So he could let them fade away with what happens next. He’s holding his breath like he’s straining to hear the first touch, like he’s trying to sense Link’s hands before they’re back on him, as if he could feel him in his aura. 

“…um, fingers first?” Link asks, feeling so unbelievably dumb. It feels like it should be obvious but it’s not. _It makes sense_ , he just needs the reassurance, needs Rhett to confirm that he’s right. That he shouldn’t just, well, stick it in. 

Rhett just nods, shoulders bunched up. Link presses a kiss against his shoulder, the coil of lean muscle tense beneath the skin. Link’s moving behind him and Rhett twists to turn and look back over his shoulder at him as he inches his way down the bed. It’ll put him in a better position, he thinks. Rhett starts when he feels Link’s hand on his hip, pushing him gently forwards so he twists at the waist, pushes his top leg up, bent. The position opens him to Link, exposes him and he doesn’t need to see himself to know he’s red from his cheeks down to his chest, maybe lower. 

He hears the click of the bottle and he exhales, and tries to just focus on breathing. He about jumps out of his skin when he feels a cool line of lotion over his ass, not quite where it was needed, but then there’s Link’s hand rubbing through the little pool of lotion and sweeping it where it needed to be. The first slow sweep of Link’s fingers between his cheeks, just touching him, just slicking the way has him breathing more heavily. _It’s happening._ Link’s touching him. 

But he can’t relax. Try as he might, he can’t breathe through it, can’t make himself let go of the wound-tight anxiety that his body’s holding. When Link goes to ease a finger into him, Rhett moves with the press of it, moves to escape it. He doesn’t mean to and he doesn’t _want_ to, but in that moment it doesn’t feel like he can take it. It feels impossible, like just one finger’s unbearably huge. Not to even mention Link’s cock. 

Link follows him as he moves, not catching on that Rhett’s trying to pull away until he’s nudging his finger inside Rhett and it’s met with a sharp, uncomfortable gasp. _Maybe it’ll get better_ Rhett tells himself, fists full of the sheets as he tells himself, silently, to breathe. 

Link catches on then, figures it out quick enough when it’s clear Rhett’s struggling, the tension in his body obvious. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he stammers, and kisses at Rhett’s back and moves. Link tugs him by the hip till he’s laid out flat on his back on the bed, and he stretches up to bridge the distance between them, climbing his friend like a goddamn tree until their lips meet in apology. 

It’s then that they both realize, suddenly and simultaneously, they they’d been about to fuck each other without kissing the other _once_. They get lost here, then. The kiss changes from a soft apology, from a plea for forgiveness or encouragement to let go, into something else entirely. It becomes an exploration all its own.

Link feels blindsided by this. Like this was something he should have planned for but didn’t, couldn’t. Like it came out of nowhere and was threatening to pull him under. Rhett’s hands come up to his face, fingertips tracing the line of his cheeks, his jaw, sweeping him in like he’s afraid he’s going to pull away. Like he’s afraid to lose him, that this is all he’ll ever get. Every time it feels like Link is about to pull away he surges forward, tries to catch him and draw him back down. Long fingers curl at the nape of Link’s neck, short nails biting into the skin there, scrubbing up through his buzzed short hair. 

Finally they have to part to breathe. Rhett’s hand’s still at Link’s neck, their foreheads pressed together as the both of them desperately suck in air. 

Link’s searching his best friend’s face, the sweat between them meaning that their pressed-together noses slip against each other. Rhett’s eyes are closed like he’s trying to settle himself. He’s hoping the weight of Link’s body heavy on his will anchor him to the bed, to this moment. This close, their features blur, but Link can feel the heavy, determined breaths of the taller boy. Like he’s trying to will himself into calm. 

“...do you wanna stop?” Link asks, because he doesn’t wanna force it if Rhett doesn’t wanna anymore. They could just do this, just lay together and kiss. 

“No way,” Rhett’s nervous but he answers without hesitation, eyes fluttering open. Looking at each other this close is dizzying, makes them look like cyclopes. Rhett breaks into a smile, the expression crinkling his eyes, making his cheeks prominent. Bumps his nose into Link’s again. 

“Me neither…” Link can’t help but smile too. Rhett’s smile is infectious, even blurred out from being so close. 

“...I can tell,” Rhett murmurs, this kind of intense seriousness washing over him at the mention of how he knows. He’s talking about the hard press of Link’s dick that he feels against his belly. His insides are hot and twisting with nerves, with need, with the desire to feel him _in_ him. 

“Wanna try again?” Link asks, already starting to shift, finding a place to plant his knee, ready to move off of Rhett and maneuver their bodies so Rhett’s is in easy reach. 

“Yeah… just… be easy…” Rhett looks so small somehow, so vulnerable looking up at Link just then, eyes wide and round. It’s a lot of trust to put in another person, but he can’t think of anyone he trusts more than Link. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you, bo,” Link murmurs, stealing one last kiss before he moves, before he settles down again on the bed the way they had been, thigh pushed up to expose him again. 

This time he’s gentle. Spreads more lotion on his hand and rubs slow circles with the pads of his fingers before he starts with pressure. He doesn’t know what to say or do to help him along, to make this easier for him aside from what he’s already doing, so he just goes with his instinct. Leans into what feels right. He presses a kiss to Rhett’s hip, to the swell of his ass and murmurs against his salty skin, “Relax, dude…”

“‘m trying,” Rhett’s voice sounds strange, thicker than it oughta be, like he’s choking on his own voice. _Relax_ , so he tries, takes a deep breath and tries to focus on just enjoying how it feels and not worrying about it hurting or being too much. Right now, though, it doesn’t quite feel that enjoyable. It feels weird and uncomfortable, like there’s no way Link can possibly fit more than just an index finger into him like this. He wonders how his desire could be so fucked up, how he could have built _this_ up in his mind as much as he had, wonders with abject despair if this is a mistake, if it’s gonna be awful. But that’s when Link’s finger sinks in all the way to the knuckle and curls just _so_ , and it feels like something sparked inside Rhett. Like something’s lighting him up inside, fiery and molten hot. 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Rhett breathes, hiding his face against the mattress and letting all his breath out at once. It takes him a second to refill his lungs, and when he does, when he lets it out again, he does it with a whimper. 

“Are you okay?” Link is hit with this cold wall of panic and freezes, afraid he’s hurt Rhett. 

“Yeah… yeah,” he stammers, nodding, realizing if he doesn’t he’s gonna lose this. Gonna scare Link off, gonna make him pull away. He nods again, harder, trying to find his voice. “I dunno… something you did… it feels so good, man…”

Whatever it was Link did, he does it again or tries to. And it’s effective if the choked, desperate sound Rhett makes is any indication. The way he shifts his hips like he’s chasing it, wants _more_. 

There oughta be more fingers. Link figures that much, guesses so because he knows for sure one finger’s not enough to be comparable to his dick. He keeps on, moving that one finger in him till it feels like two wouldn’t be too much of a jump. 

Rhett’s grabs the shapeless motel pillow and drags it close, needing something to hold onto, hugs it tight to his chest. His back arches and it’s clear he’s struggling, warring with his body, willing himself to take this. 

“My God, Rhett…” Link breathes, awed to watch two fingers disappear into his friend’s body. Overwhelmed by how tight he feels wrapped around him where he is, imagining how that’d feel on his cock. How it’d be to fuck him, pressed up against him like he had been at the start of this when it was just unspoken humping through their sweaty boxers. 

Should he add a third? He doesn’t know and he’s starting to lose focus here, distracted by the way Rhett moves, by the writhe of those skinny hips, the shift of his long legs as he tries to ease this for himself, or push back for more. 

“...fuck me,” Rhett says finally, unable to help himself, unable to stop the words. His voice is rough and rumbling, desperate, and he punctuates the request with a hard roll of his hips, bumping his ass back against Link’s body, wherever he was close enough to touch. 

“Rhett--” it’s almost a question, like he’s on the verge of asking him if he was sure. It feels foolish to need to ask that again, after they’d already paused and Link had asked if he needed to stop. The thing of it is, Rhett’s not the only one who’s nervous. Link’s terrified of hurting him. That’s the last thing he wants to do, and his inexperience feels like it’s ganging up on him. 

“Please, bo,” he breathes, so overwhelmed by how bad he needs this that he doesn’t honestly give a damn that he’s red from the tips of his ears down to his chest. It doesn’t stop him from turning to glance back at Link. He’s trying to will him to do it by looking at him, feels like it’s gotta be plain on his face just how dead serious he is. How much he needs this.

Link doesn’t argue against that. Fuck, he _can’t_. He moves away -- takes a half a second in the middle to peel out of his sweat-soaked boxers while Rhett kicks out of his -- and then he’s laying at his back. Propped up so he can figure this out, so he can negotiate their bodies into a position to fit together. More lotion, and he strokes his cock just _once_ because he’s afraid he might come from the excitement alone if he keeps touching himself. He drags his slick fingers between Rhett’s cheeks just to find him and guides his cock there, nudges the thick head against his entrance. 

Rhett feels this rush of heat before it even really starts, just from the press of Link’s blunt cock against him. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and hides his face against the pillow, and he forces himself to breathe. His shoulders are bunched up again, tight, his body like a bow held at full draw. He needs help letting go of the string.

Link lays his hand on Rhett’s bicep, squeezes, presses a kiss to his shoulder. He’s still afraid of hurting him, but it feels like that just comes with the territory. He’s gotta be careful with him cause he’s more fragile than he looks. Maybe fragile’s not a word Rhett would like, but it does the job well enough. Right now, Link feels real fragile too, like they’re crossing into something that could easily break in their hands, shatter them both. He’s holding onto Rhett and hoping, clinging to him. Like he needs Rhett as much as Rhett needs him, because he does. 

Link rocks forward. They’re not a perfect side by side anymore, Rhett’s half pushed down against the bed and Link’s half on him, starts to sink into him. It’s agonizingly slow but slow is what Rhett needed. Rhett’s gasping for air like he’s drowning, and every time he’s sure that Link’s in him all the way, he keeps moving. It’s impossible, the drag of it, the thickness of Link’s cock making space for itself inside his body. Rhett feels his back arching and he can’t stop it, can’t fight it, feels the tension taking him over. It doesn’t quite _hurt_ , but it’s uncomfortable. It’s too much. And _dear God_ , he’s still moving. There’s still more of him. 

“You need me to stop?” Link asks against the back of his neck in response to this low gasping, near keening noise that he didn’t think Rhett realized he was making. 

“No, just…” Rhett’s hand searches back for Link’s, shaky as it passes over their hips. Link feels the brush of his fingers and glances down, chases Rhett's hand without needing to hear what it was Rhett was wanting. He's got hold of him before Rhett manages to find words for what he needs. 

“Hold my hand,” Rhett sounds so vulnerable, asking. Like he's afraid of how he sounds, afraid that Link might let him fall, even though he knows he never would. Not intentionally, anyway. 

There’s no hesitation, just fumbling as Link rearranged their hands, laces their fingers together, Link’s palm against the back of Rhett’s hand. He squeezes Rhett's hand in his as he guides their arms together. Hugs around his torso, their intertwined hands settling against Rhett's chest. 

“I got you,” Link breathes, presses his face against the back of Rhett’s neck, nose buried against his nape so his breath tickles there. 

Rhett’s breath comes out in a harsh pant, and he squeezes Link’s fingers with his interlaced grip like an answer. He can't shake the feeling that he's just a second away from this hurting. That the only reason it doesn't yet is because he's kept control of himself, but that he could slip, could tense up too much and it'd hurt. 

Link squeezes Rhett's hand, continuing the loop like call and response, the easy reassurance of their hands folded together. He continues, slow and steady as he sinks into him. There's not much space left between them and when their bodies finally press together, flush, Link’s face is hot with how goddamn good it feels to be wrapped up in Rhett, completely surrounded by him. 

The last press felt easier, like his body was putting up less resistance, and he shudders at how it feels when Link sinks home. It radiates out through his body like a spark that lights his nerves and carries the fire out to the edges of his body before circling back, before settling heavy and hot and low in his belly. He's still for a moment, maybe two, but then he's rocking back against Link for _more_. 

He gasps, startled by how that felt, how it almost gave him that sensation he'd felt when it was Link’s agile fingers curling inside him. So he repeats the move, does it again, a little harder and more insistent, chasing _something_. He doesn't know just what, but he knows he'll know when he finds it. When he feels it. 

“Rhett--”

“Oh my god, Link, please,” Rhett babbles and grips Link’s hand tight in his, uses the hold to wrap the shorter boy’s arm around him tight like a blanket. 

Their bodies begin to shift. Rhett's tugging him slowly closer, letting himself be pressed down flat against the bed and making a point to pull Link down with him until the full weight of Link’s body is pressed down on him. Rhett's caught between Link’s lean body and the mattress, all its twisted sheets, and that's fine. It's good, perfect, gives him the friction of the fabric beneath him. Not the first time he'd have gotten off without a hand on his dick, just humping down against the mattress or something more substantial. But, he thinks, it'll be the first time he's come like this, with something inside him. Someone. Not just someone, but Link. 

Rhett turns his face so he can press his burning cheek to a cooler patch of the bed and groans, trying to move up and back against Link. Trying not just to receive passively, but to take. 

Link isn't having that. He steals Rhett's leverage everywhere he can, pushing their linked hands up the mattress to hold him down. His other hand at Rhett’s upper arm, at his shoulder like he's climbing him, like he's seeking hand holds to keep from losing this. 

Rhett feels pinned down to the bed, feels trapped beneath Link’s weight. Reality is he's not trapped, if he really wanted he could probably overpower him even now. But Link's got all the advantage, position and grip, the situation they're in… in Rhett's mind he's imagining a Link that enforces this. That he holds him down and keeps him there with the sheer force of his strength. He wants to really feel under Link’s control, wants to know that even if he fought he couldn't get back up. He's there in his mind now, pretending, and it's enough. It’s believable. 

“Fuck, you feel so good...” Link’s voice rumbles low against the back of his neck as he starts to move, uses the grip on his shoulder and his hand as leverage to fuck him. It’s not the slow and subtle of getting accustomed to the feeling of this, of trying to steal more where Link won’t give it, Link’s _fucking him_. It’s slow at first, but it’s deep and sure and Rhett’s face goes so much hotter than it already is. 

Rhett’s squirming his hips, trying to change the angle because Link’s not letting him have the kind of room he needs to try and take more than that, to get faster or harder. Greedy, he’ll take what he can get, and when he arches his back just _so_ Link presses into him exactly where he needs him. Link’s speeding up and Rhett doesn’t stop chasing that nameless feeling, fingers curling tight linked with Link’s as their bodies start to slam together fast and hard. The grip was meant to be a warning because he can’t manage coherent words, squeezing his hand again and again like a pulse, a desperate plea for him not to stop. 

It’s overwhelming and it’s perfect. Link’s everywhere all at once, behind him and inside him, pressed down along the length of his body, mouth at his neck. If he tries hard enough he almost feels used, like Link’s holding him down and just taking what he wants from him. Rhett feels like he’s going to shake apart, like he can’t handle any more than this. Like any more will be too much to bear, and instead of arching to urge Link’s cock into that perfect press just _there_ , now he’s squirming like he wants to avoid it. He can’t take it anymore, afraid he’ll fall apart if he can’t escape it now. 

It happens in seconds, their bodies negotiating this new shift, and Rhett can’t get away fast enough to escape it because Link’s body has figured the angle out and stays on it doggedly, moves with him as he moves away because he needs to keep hearing the way his cries pitch up, wild and desperate. There’s no warning and Rhett’s coming beneath him, tense and shuddering, twisting in the sheets. 

This has got to be the hottest thing Link’s ever heard or seen. It’s seared into his memory, hot as the night itself is, something he’ll replay again and again trying to remember the way Rhett’s body felt beneath his, around him when he’s working himself over with his hand alone in their dorm or in a shower stall. 

But Link’s not done with him yet. Rhett’s a shuddering, over sensitive mess and Link’s fucking him through it. If Rhett was loud when he came that’s nothing to how loud he is now, fucked out and overwhelmed with Link still holding him tight and chasing his own release. It’s not long until Link’s thrusts start to fall apart, the rhythm lost the closer he gets and he’s just breathing hard, panting hot breath against Rhett’s shoulder, his neck, too far gone by the time he comes to even let Rhett know he’s coming. 

They don’t move for the longest time. Just lay there together in a tangle of limbs even after Link softens and slips out. They’re a filthy mess of sweat and come but neither of them seem to have it in them to care just yet. The night isn’t any cooler than it was at the start, when Link’s proximity was getting under Rhett’s skin. As they come back down and settle into themselves again, the stifling heat of another body too close begins to creep back in around the edges, but peeling themselves apart from each other isn’t in the cards just yet. They push this closeness for as long as they can possibly tolerate it, until finally they’ve gotta do something about it. 

“You’re so sweaty it’s disgusting,” Link says, trying to hide the smile in his voice so it comes across like the complaint he’s trying for. 

“Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me,” Rhett tries to elbow Link but he doesn’t manage it and Link grabs hold of that pointy elbow in question to protect himself from it. Rhett, unable to get a jab in, finally gives up with a defeated groan. “...spend the whole dang night sleeping half into my side of the bed, sweating on me, and you’ve got the nerve to complain that _I’m_ sweaty…”

“Sorry… if you want me to keep to my side of the bed, I’ll just go.” Link starts to push himself up like he’s planning to disentangle himself from Rhett and go back to his side of the bed and keep his distance. Before he manages to get even a few inches of distance, Rhett reaches a hand back behind himself and catches Link wherever he can reach him and pulls him back. 

“I didn’t mean you had to go anywhere.”

Link smiles against Rhett’s shoulder, nose slipping in the sweat on their skin as he lingers there a little longer but there’s a timer on this. The night’s still warm but as the minutes stretch on the sweat on their skin cools and leaves them feeling clammy, unable to settle comfortably, especially not when they can’t seem to manage to move away.

“...I need a shower,” Link announces finally, breaking the silence between them. He’s got to. He’s not going to be able to get comfortable enough to sleep again if he doesn’t. 

Link hasn’t moved yet but Rhett’s already starting to wordlessly withdraw into himself a little bit, try and feel a little less needy in his skin in preparation for Link moving away. It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong, and reluctantly, he’s got to admit that he’s gotta rinse off before he’ll be able to sleep, either. He supposes he’s glad one of them has the sense to move. 

“Okay.” Rhett shifts as Link gets up and moves to stand, watches the dim light of morning casting him into shadow as he moves. 

After what just happened between them, it shouldn’t feel as impossibly awkward to ask if he can join him, but somehow it does. Feels like the silent stalemate that was there at the start is back again, the one that had only broken when Link started talking in his sleep. 

Link breaks it again, but this time he’s definitely not sleeping. 

“Aren’t you coming too?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for liking, commenting, and subscribing. :)


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